


Validate Me

by starksparker



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Anger, Angst, Anxiety, Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Spoilers, Depression, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Night Terrors, Nightmares, PTSD, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-20
Updated: 2018-05-20
Packaged: 2019-05-09 08:47:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14712915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starksparker/pseuds/starksparker
Summary: Peter is trying to recover from the events of the war





	Validate Me

**Author's Note:**

> This contains Infinity War Spoilers and it's based off the song Summer Stained by Broadside

ᶜᵃᶰ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵃᵛᵉ ᵐʸ ˡᶤᶠᵉ

Peter was first evaporated from the plane of existence. Just ash in Tony's hands after pleading for his life. In the final moments, Peter was only scared, terrified, barely even sad. He was far too young to die and the fact he'd be turning into ash just made it worse. He thought of May for a second, thinking that he'd just be gone and she wouldn't even have a body to bury, nothing left of him besides his room he was supposed to clean the night before.

And he thought of you. He thought of you on the bus, telling him to be careful before helping Ned cause a distraction. Peter knew you'd be heartbroken and a mess, completely destroyed because he wasn't careful enough.

And he thought of Ned who would later blame himself for starting the distraction, for being so happy to help Peter. Ned would have guilt for the rest of his life and after that he just saw Tony and Peter's last thought was how he let him down. He let Tony down as he turned to ash.

But he came back. He did. Tony and Steve and Bruce, the other Avengers and a few others teamed up and were able to reverse time and save everyone that was wiped out by Thanos. But, with that came the deaths of those heroes. The brave heroes who sacrificed their lives for all the innocent.

They were able to defeat Thanos first, luckily, but their fate was sealed. With that meant, yes Peter came back and it was all very odd and uncomfortable and terrifying, barely relieving for the first few minutes, but he had to witness his saviors die. He witnessed Tony die and Quill had to hold him back with Strange, watching as the life being sucked from Tony. Peter's body was weak but his screams could tear heartstrings. He died in Tony's arms and then Tony died in front of him, to help save his life. It's a sight Peter can never unsee.

ᴵ ᶜᵃᶰ'ᵗ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᵃᶰʸʷᵃʸˑ ᴵ ʷᵃᶰᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᶤᵍʰᵗˢ ᵒᶰ

Peter's bedroom door flung open as May ran inside, the same ear-piercing scream that left Peter that fateful day now filling his room. May pulled him into a hug, rushing to sit behind him, trying her hardest to calm him down. She ran a hand through his hair and held him as tight as she could as he flailed.

"Peter! It's a dream! It's okay!" May tried her hardest to keep her voice from wavering, her heart breaking with every passing second. "It's okay." She says, quieter this time with a cracked voice.

Peter's screams finally stop and he stops flailing but his arms and legs stay completely tense. His heart thuds in his ears while his eyes swell with tears. Everything hurts. And everything feels so damn empty and he can't quite figure out which nightmare is worse because they're all horrible. The one where he sees Tony die, where it's exaggerated and Tony just shakes his head at Peter as if it's all his fault. Or maybe it's the one where Peter disappears to ash again after coming home, the one where he just freezes and his hands start to go as May cries, trying to keep him on his feet. They're both horrible.

"I-I...I'm s-sorry, May." Peter sniffles, shaking his head."I...di-didn't mean to wake you."

"It's okay, it's okay, Peter."May coos and refuses to loosen her grip around her nephew.

Maybe it was that she knew Peter was so far from okay the last thing he needed was for her to let go. Maybe it was that Peter's hand held her wrist so tight she was sure to have a bruise within the next few hours. Or maybe it was her constant fear that the worst wasn't quite over. That maybe the universe wasn't quite done and taking away the heroes wasn't enough. That it would be back to take Peter away again. It did once, why not just rip him from her grip once more? Maybe it's all three.

"You-you can go back to sleep. I'm okay." Peter whispers, looking back to May, using his last remaining strength to hold back his tears.

She shakes her head. "No, you're not." She says honestly. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Peter shakes his head quickly and a few tears slip away. "No...no, no, no, no." Peter says.

May's chin wrinkles as she tries to hold back her own tears. "You have to talk about it."

"No, it's okay. I'm okay, I promise. It's just..just a nightmare." Peter looks away and wiggles away from her grasp. "Please." Peter pleads.

May nods and gets up. She's learned in the few months she's had him back not to push too much, especially after a nightmare. Peter was never an angry person. It's just not who he is. He gets angry like any normal person but the kid holds it in. He burns it off being Spider-Man. He vents to Ned but he never, ever takes it out anyone. He never used to, anyway. But now, he'll lash out anyone who tries to help him. Who tries to even understand what's going on. He can't talk. He can't eat. He can't sleep. It's too fucking much. And May hates upsetting him because he might disappear again.

"M-may?" Peter says before May leaves the room. "C-can the lights...can they..." Peter looks away as he tucks himself back into bed and May simply nods, flipping the light on and leaving his door open. Just like every night before that. Routine.

ᴵ'ᵐ ᵒᶰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉᵈᵍᵉ ᵃᶰᵈ ᴵ'ᵐ ˡᵒˢᶤᶰᵍ ᵍʳᶤᵖ

Peter's hood covered his ruffled curls and concealed his profile. Light rain decorated parts of his hoodie a darker shade of blue. His short nails dug into his skin as his fist closed around the stem of red and yellow flowers. Pink roses, lilies, and white daisies laid in front of his feet from other visitors. His vision blurred as tears fell from his cheeks, blending in with the rain with his hung head. The lettering of the tombstone can no longer be read with Peter's swollen eyes.

"Peter?" Your voice hits Peter and pulls him back to reality. "Pete? Come on. You okay?" You walk up to him and rest a soft hand on his shoulder but he jerks away quickly.

It's something he does now. He jerks away when you touch him. It's not you, really. It's not and you know that. It doesn't make it hurt any less but you know that. It's like, if someone touches him who isn't May, he feels like he's just...going to vanish again. Like he'll crumble to nothing. Everything will be for nothing. Peter is so scared of everything and he won't tell you about any of it. If he talks, it makes it real. Realer than it already is. And he can't let you be scared like he is.

"S-sorry." Peter croaks, glancing to you and right back to the grave etched with 'Anthony Edward Stark'.

"It's okay." You say softly, putting your hands in your pockets. "May called. She said you'd be here. You still can't sleep?"

Peter swallowed a hard lump, his hand coming up to wipe his nose before shaking his head. "I, uh, I don't wanna talk about it." His words almost blend in with the hard pour of rain.

"I know." You bite your lip and look at the tombstone and back to Peter.

He's so different now which you understand. Well, you understand as much as you can. You didn't disappear. Ned didn't disappear. Your parents didn't disappear. You were lucky. Peter wasn't. And even when he was lucky to come back, this happened. You understood as much as you could because when Tony came back and he broke the new to May. Your phone rang with May's number and you felt bile rise and your heart plummet, your gut telling you. And then she broke the news to you and she was sobbing so fucking hard you could barely understand her and she tried to stay together but she couldn't because her only family was ripped from her. And you sobbed with her because the person you love, the one you trusted more than anything was gone and you helped. So, you tried.

But that didn't ease your stomach or your heart with the sight of Peter. He's here, alive and breathing. That's what you tell yourself. You repeat it like a damn mantra because god, if you stop he may disappear again. But, you look at him and he's not the Peter you knew. His eyes are hollow and distant. There are permanent frown lines that surround his mouth while worry lines are always plastered between his brows and across his forehead. He's paler and you swear he's losing weight. He says he's eating but it doesn't look like it. Bags are dark beneath his eyes despite him telling you he sleeps. Peter is losing it.

"Why don't we get some food, huh?" You offer and stick out your hand, something Peter occasionally will take. If he can see you offering to touch him, he doesn't always jerk away and if he does, he falls back into you.

"I'm not hungry." Peter mumbles and squats to rest his flowers on the grass that had grown over the plot.

"Alright," You nod. "We should get out of the rain. You're gonna get sick." Peter's head stays hung and his shoulders shrug. "It's okay." You lick your lips and suddenly Peter's head snaps up, giving you a clearer view of his bloodshot eyes.

"It's okay?" Peter croaks. "None of this is okay! None of it! They're all dead, y/n! I died! I died! And then....and then I came back but that meant all of these other people had to die! I had to watch Mr. Stark die! He died because of me! None of this is okay!" Peter steps closer to you and he's yelling in your face with tears slowly falling and the rain is picking up and you're just nodding because he's right. "I can't sleep! I can't eat! I can't do anything anymore because everything is fucking horrible!" Peter takes a sharp breath. " _It hurts!_ "

The last scream ripped through you like a tidal wave, echoing through your bones. It's so cracked and broken and you can feel his pain with it. Peter's voice is like shattered glass covering the floor after a break in. It's sharp and scattered and holding an unknown story. Unknown because the only one who was there was him, the intruder. It's just him and he's just broken.  _Damaged._

You hesitate as Peter stares at you and despite the close proximity, the screaming you just endured, you're not scared of him like maybe you would be. You're not scared and he's not angry. It's just sadness. Sorrow as his lip quivers and he tries to hold back his tears by holding his breath.

Empathy.

You hold out your arms and pull Peter into you, not releasing him from the hug, no matter how much he tries to jerk away. If he really wanted to, he could break your grip but he doesn't. This is the first time you've hugged him since his return. He didn't hug you back though and he's moved away every time you've tried to hug him since. Now, now you can feel his spine and his ribs even through the hoodie. When was the last time he ate a proper meal?

A few seconds pass and his body is shaking and his sobs overpower the rain that was now a downpour.

"You're right, it's not okay." The words leave your mouth as Peter's arms wrap around you for the first time. "It's not okay." You repeat as Peter's knees give out and you're both on the wet grass, still not daring to remove your arms from his torso. "It will be though. I got you."

ᴵᶠ ᴵ ˢˡᶤᵖ ᵃᶰᵈ ᶠᵃˡˡ ᴵ'ˡˡ ˡᵒˢᵉ ᵐʸ ᶠᵃᶤᵗʰ ᶤᶰ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸᵗʰᶤᶰᵍ

Since that day, you've seen Peter nearly every day. You thought, maybe, maybe he was getting better. They say recovery is a long road but this was....this was too long it seemed. But, then, Ned called you and said he wanted a turn. He wanted another turn to try and talk to Peter.

Ned had a hard time because he blamed himself for it. For everything. Blamed himself for Peter's death and now blaming himself for Peter's PTSD. It's not his fault, but that doesn't help. But, he's ready to try and help his friend. Ned's the guy in the chair. Peter's right-hand man and Peter needs him. Peter needs him because he's drowning. You and May can't keep Peter afloat alone.

"Hey, man." Ned says, the normally happy grin across his face as he enters Peter's room.

"Hey." Peter says, his hand scrolling through Netflix on his phone.

"Come on. I brought a new Death Star. I need your help."

"I'm good." Peter says plainly as Ned takes his seat on the floor.

"Dude, come on." Ned urges, taking off his backpack. "May and y/n say you don't leave your bed, like, ever." Ned neglects to mention that you and May did say he leaves his bed to go to Tony's grave. Daily.

"I said no." Peter repeats and his jaw clenches.

"I'm not gonna let you lay in bed all day. You're my best friend."

"Yeah, and you caused a distraction and now we're here." Peter retorts, not even looking to Ned.

An instant lump forms in Ned's throat.

_He doesn't mean it. He doesn't mean it. He doesn't mean it._

Ned repeats to himself, over and over again. He had to because he can't keep blaming himself and he knows this isn't Peter. This is grief.  _It's not Peter._

"No one asked you to jump out of that window." Ned stands up and looks over to Peter. "I didn't ask you to." Peter glances to him and he bites the inside of his cheek. "You asked me to make a distraction and I did and y/n helped and then you died. You don't get to blame all of this on us. You jumped out of that window, dude. No one asked you to do that. Get up." Ned missed his best friend and he's not going to walk on eggshells. You and May can but Ned can't.  _It hurts._

Peter stood from his bed, tossing his phone across the room, not a care given on if he's broken the screen again. "No one?" Peter comes face to face with Ned but Ned doesn't move. His heart is broken for his friend. He can take what Peter throws if he needs to throw anything. "I can't just-" Peter stops for a few seconds. "Ben said I need to help people if I have the ability to! You know that! He said to!"

"He didn't mean stowaway on an alien ship!" Ned counters.

"I was trying to help! You know that! It's not my fault you made a distraction! You decided to help! If you didn't want me to go, you shouldn't have done it but you did! You did! Don't tell me who I get to blame for what happened! You don't even know what happened." Peter's arm flails out with his words, showing his rushed anger.

"Because you don't talk about it, man." Ned's voice is level, almost sighed. "You don't talk about it so how are any of us supposed to help you?"

"I don't need your damn help!" Peter screams and it's the same soul tearing scream everyone is almost used to hearing but it doesn't make it hurt any less.

"Yeah, yeah you do." Ned nods. "Now, sit the hell down and help me." Ned moves a little bit away from Peter and takes his seat on the floor, going back to taking out the lego pieces. "This isn't' your fault. It's not mine, or y/n's, or May's. It's not. But if you want to blame us, we'll let you, dude. But you gotta try. So, come on."

Peter's face is red and his fists are balled so hard, his nails are nearly drawing blood and his chest is heaving, but he does as Ned says. He moves around him and takes a set on the opposite side of him, helping sort the pieces.

Once the pieces are sorted, Peter's face is back to an almost ill pale and his breathing is back to normal.

"I'm sorry." Peter says.

"I know." Ned nods. "I know. Me, too."

"I-, uh, I, you don't deserve-"

"Peter," Ned cuts him off, looking up to him and taking extra notice in Peter's tired eyes. "You'll be okay."

The boys sat in silence for the next few hours. Peter shed a few tears at first, the pressure of actually doing something, doing something with his best friend who he knew he had hurt. He knew he'd hurt with his words and his death and the deed he asked him to do on the bus. But Ned didn't falter. He just went on about whatever he was talking about. He told stories of what happened in school, something Peter hasn't thought about since his death. Ned talked about you and how you're really doing, not the facade you put up around Peter.

Ned didn't do it to be mean. He did it because he needs to understand he's not the only one losing hope, the only one slipping. And it seemed to chisel at part of Peter's cinderblock weights. The cement that was holding him down, keeping him from the surface. Hearing Ned explain it's not just Peter struggling. It's him and May and you. It's everyone but then hearing that you're all holding on. You're slipping but holding on. It's not just Peter and deep down he knew that. It was just hard to see from the bottom. Maybe, just maybe though, after hearing Ned talk, after Ned got Peter to smile, albeit a cracked smile, for the first time in months, maybe Peter wasn't drowning as much as he thought he was.

ᵛᵃˡᶤᵈᵃᵗᵉ ᵐᵉ ᵒʳ ᶤ'ˡˡ ᵍᶤᵛᵉ ᶤᶰ

Another three months. That marks month nine since Peter's death and six months since Tony's. Since the other heroes. And finally, maybe, Peter is getting better. Maybe, just...just a little. Ned yelling at him for probably the first time in their friendship and Peter taking his anger out on him, Ned being so okay with it, it pulled Peter up from somewhere dark and twisty and terrifying. It pulled him up, just enough to escape the seaweed tugging at his ankles. Now, it's you, Ned, and May to finish being the lifesavers, the floats to bring him completely back to surface.

"How're you doing today, Peter?" You ask, noticing an empty dinner plate on Peter's desk.

"Alright, I guess." He says quietly as he's seated at his desk, tinkering with something you can't make out from your seat on his bed.

Tinkering. You can almost smile at him while you watch. His tongue is barely sticking out between his lips and his brows are furrowed in concentration, not pain. There's this adorable side of him you nearly lost hope of seeing showing in front of you. He can tinker with things again.

"You look better." You nod with honestly.

The words stick to Peter like honey. No one has said that to him, not even May. He turns to you, raised brows on display.

"I-I do?"

"Yeah, you do." You nod again. "You could still use some vitamin D and some more food and some more sleep but..." You pause, looking him over and he does look better. Something. He just looks better. "You look like you're doing okay for the first time."

Peter can feel yet another lump forming but there's a soft smile threatening to tug at his lips. "I, uh, I feel a little better." He glances behind him to the plate and then back to you. "I...I did...really eat. May made some mashed potatoes and chicken." Peter looks to his hands. "It, uh, it wasn't as much as before but...I did eat, really." His shoulders shrug and he gestures with his hand, always a sign he was being honest when talking about anything that left him vulnerable. 

You give him a proud smile. "Good, good. That's great, Pete."

You get up from your seat and move over to him. You slowly extend your hand to cup his face, something he's getting better with. He still jerks away sometimes but he falls back into your touch. Always. Your thumb presses soft lines along his cheekbone and you see his eyes gloss over.

"You know, I love you, right?" You ask, your head tilted.

"W-why?" Peter takes your hand moves it to his hand, his fingers playing with yours as his eyes watch the movement.

"Because," There's a sad smile on your face as you start to talk. "You're Peter and you're strong and you're smart and you're funny and you're kind. I love you because you're you."

"It-" Peter's voice cracks and it's like another shard of glass punctures your heart. " _It hurts._ "

"I know, Pete." You press a soft kiss to the top of his head and his hands release yours, his arms coming to wrap around you.

He never does this. Peter used to all the time. He's a hugger and a cuddler and actually pretty clingy when it comes to being around you but he never hugs you first anymore. Never. But, his head is pressed against your abdomen and his arms are holding you so tight, you won't be able to get out of his grip if you wanted to. Of course you don't want to. Your hand runs through his dark curls as his sniffling start to fill the room. Your eyes shut for a few seconds, consoling yourself, careful not to cry with him. No matter how many times he breaks in front of you, you can't help but nearly break with him. You just want him okay again.

"I-I'm s-so sorry." Peter whimpers.

"Peter, what for?" You look down, stopping your movements.

Peter's tear-stained cheeks show as he looks up to you. "F-for not...not being here and crying and you deserve-"

"Stop." You cut him off and your tone is sharp. "Don't' you do do that. You're going through some heavy shit. You gotta cry and scream and yell, do it. It's good for you. You can't focus on us? So fucking what? You're here.  **You. Are. Here.**  I don't care. I care about you getting better. I love you and that means thick and thin, good or bad."

"I, just, I haven't been..." Peter sighs and his grip loosens around you. "Haven't been, me."

"I think you have every right not to be you." You say with honesty. "Because Peter," You take in a deep breath, trying to form words. "I don't think I could do what you're doing if I were you."

Peter shakes his head. "Uh, c-can I...can I tell you something?"

"Of course."

Peter hangs his head as you watch him carefully, hoping he does tell you no matter what it is because at this point, him saying anything at all, is better than nothing. Even if it kills you.

"I...I don't know-I don't know how to do this." Peter looks up to you through his lashes. "Spider-Man,I mean." He shakes his head and looks back down. This is the first time he's brought up his alter ego since returning. It catches you off guard at first but you recover quickly.

"When you're ready." You say simply and pull his chin to look at you. "I know you, Peter Parker, and it might take a long time but you can be Spider-Man when you're ready."

"What if I'm not? What if I'm...I'm never...ready?" Peter avoids your eyes his grip completely loosens and his hands fall back into his lap.

"You're still Peter Parker. And you're still incredible. And I still love you. And you're still you. But, I know, one day, you'll be ready and I'll be here to reassure you and stand by you every second and I know you worry but May will, too. And Ned. But, Pete, you gotta not focus on that, alright?" Peter nods, understanding your words. "Get better first, then focus on Spider-Man. You gotta sleep, really sleep and you gotta eat regularly. It's okay if it takes time."

Peter remains silent but that's good because his eyes are understanding and there's no anger in his face or remorse or guilt. It's contentment and it's a relief. There's a light. He can see that light and it's because he has three lifesavers pulling him to the surface, slow and steady.

Peter gives you a soft nod, one of his curls slightly bouncing against his forehead as he stands up. He makes his way to his bed, the bed that's seen so many scenes of his nightmares and night terrors, May having to shush him only to get elbowed in the nose a few times. The bad moments seem to outweigh the bad but then you join him. You join without asking and he flinches but you keep a distance and show your hand, offering it to him.

He shakes his head and takes in a shaky breath, lifting his arm and offering for you to curl into his side. A shocked expression crosses your face but you smile and find yourself in the place you used to call home. Peter's arm wraps around your shoulder while the other wraps around your waist and he takes a few deep breaths, trying not to lose it again. You're real. In his arms and he's real and in yours. It's all real. And you can breathe and he can exhale.

"Thank you." He says quietly, sniffling just once.

 Peter presses his forehead into the crook of your neck as you kiss the top of his head. "Not going anywhere."


End file.
